Talk about sleepless nights. At three a.m. I almost resorted to Shannon's vodka. Two days ago, I thought I'd found my anchor, but now I realised I was the anchor and I'd drag Will down with me if I kept taking advantage of his good nature. No matter what he said.

And last night, he hadn't said anything. After I'd left him in the bathroom, he'd disappeared, and I'd been ready to walk to the bus stop when I found him sitting outside the door of Daylesford Hall in his BMW. Since it would have been rude to walk right past him, I'd climbed into the car, but like earlier in the day when he'd sent me a text message and I hadn't known what to say in reply, I'd kept quiet, and he hadn't spoken either.

Part of me—the grown-up child who still believed in fairy tales—wanted to tell him I'd been stupid when I turned down his dinner invitation, because the idea of going to one of those upmarket places just once in my adult life held a morbid appeal. And I couldn't deny I craved his company. I even had a dress I could wear—a black strapless number Shannon had treated me to when she insisted I go on a double date with her and Slick Dick and one of his friends.

But I'd got out of the car and walked into the flat alone, ignored Shannon's questions about why Will hadn't come in to eat with us, and gone straight to bed.

***

At five thirty in the morning, her usual time despite it being Saturday, Shannon walked in with a cup of coffee, Aisling toddling along behind her.

"Okay, you've had time to wallow in self-pity. What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

I reached out for the coffee, and she held it out of reach.

"Fine. Everything."

"On a scale of one to Slick Dick?"

I grimaced at the comparison. "Maybe a three?"

She handed over the mug, and I sipped gratefully.

"Go on, tell me. I thought you and Will were getting on so well. What did he do?"

"It started when one of the cops who first interviewed me wanted to ask more questions. I know Will doesn't like him, so I'll admit I didn't go out of my way to be helpful, but he kept asking me who I'd seen Helene spending time with in the evenings, and I never saw her spending time with anyone."

"So tell him that."

"I did, and he put me on a guilt trip. Gave me this lecture about how if I wanted to stay in England, I needed to act like an upstanding citizen and assist with upholding the law."

"Sounds like a real asshole."

"He is, and he wouldn't let it drop. Then Will heard part of the discussion and came barging in."

Shannon's voice turned dreamy. "Aw, your knight in shining armour."

"Well, sort of. He and the cop had words, and I got out of there while I could, but I waited outside the door for Will."

"I'm not seeing the problem here?"

"The cop told Will he was slumming it with me. And even though he isn't with me, exactly, he can do better. He doesn't talk about his past much, but I know he went to a private school, and the cop said he came from high society."

Plus he had built-in manners and a voice that wasn't exactly posh, but definitely well-spoken, especially compared to mine. I'd spent hours practising my English, talking aloud to myself or sometimes Aisling, and I still hadn't managed to strip away my Middle Eastern inflection completely.

Shannon rolled her eyes. "Who cares where he came from? It's where he is now that matters, and he's been chasing after you all week. It's clear he cares."

"I get that, but one of us has to put the brakes on this...this thing." I took a gulp of coffee to cover up the fact that I was getting sniffly again. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. He asked me to go out for dinner with him, and I said no."

"Have you lost your mind?"

"Most of the time it seems that way."

Between ghosts and murders, unsuitable men and my wayward heart, I felt even less in control than usual.

"Call Will and tell him you weren't thinking straight. Blame it on your period. That excuse works for everything with men."

"I am not calling Will Lawson to talk about my period."

"Well, think of a better story. You two should be together. I know it."

***

My phone buzzed mid-morning, and I grabbed it off my bedside table. I'd tried getting up, but it didn't work out. Everything was grey. The sky outside, my mood, and the white shirt I'd accidentally left in with the darks when I put the laundry on yesterday morning. Thoughts of Will had been distracting me again.

And now he'd sent me another message.

Will: The forensics results came in. The lab found blue fibres under Helene's fingernails. Wool mixed with acrylic. Just thought you might want to know.

I did want to know. But I still wasn't sure what to say. For a moment, I envied those teenagers who walked around with their noses buried in their smartphones, communicating exclusively in the modern equivalent of hieroglyphics.

Rania: Thank you. I'll see you on Monday.

I hit send before I could chicken out, then immediately regretted it because my message sounded as though I didn't want to speak to him for two days. The needy part of me wanted to type out a follow-up, but that might have encouraged him to do something impulsive.

Like drive over and kiss you?

No! The thought both thrilled and scared me.

So, I stayed in bed watching a terrible movie until Mrs. Garrett from downstairs phoned and asked me to walk to the supermarket with her. I foolishly figured it would do me good to get out of the flat, but the old lady took one look at me and her expression turned sympathetic.

"What's up, love?"

"Nothing."

"Ooh, there is. Normally you've got such a pretty face, but this morning it looks like a smacked arse."

Tell me again why I helped this woman?

"Really, I'm fine."

"Is it that handsome young man you've been coming home with for the last few days? Did you have a bust-up?"

I forgot Mrs. Garrett saw everything. She spent her days sitting by the window at an old card table with a cup of herbal tea, stroking her cat, Bigly. I often thought that she'd have made a great Bond villain if she were fifty years younger.

"No, not a bust-up. Just a small awkward moment."

She patted me on the arm. "Life's full of awkward moments, dearie. You don't live to my age without seeing your fair share. The only way to get over them is to think of them as learning experiences and move on."

"I hurt him," I whispered.

"Then that means he cares."

But I did too, perhaps more about Will than myself, and I wanted to do what was best for him.